Lost and Found
by naedie
Summary: A Carlisle Bella story, written entirely for constructive criticism. Please read and review. xx She lost her memory. He lost his mind. ' They say I loved him. That he loved me. I think they're lying.'
1. Chapter 1

Characters belong to The author, Stefanie Meyer, The rest belong to yours truly.

Writing this entirely for constructive criticism. Please Review.

Naedie

One

Light. one side of my skull then the other. Piercing.

Pain. My teeth grit.

"A good reaction." That voice. my mind reels, It sounds like pain, He is pain.

I go still. I feel awareness drain away, I willingly fall back into the darkness. Escape.

Light. Pain.. My scream are quickly muffled, cold water poured over my face. I choke.

I see the black, calling. I want to run to it. to hide in its depth in my mind.

I know better.

I'm here to stay. Pain beckons.

…

Light. Red on my closed lids. Bright but not painful.

Cold, smooth. I'm on the table. Skin, my skin, my hand strapped down but I can feel my thigh. Cool, soft. My eyes blink open, I can see the light, the source, above me on the ceiling. All white, The room is bare. Like all my time here, I am bare. I have almost lost all sense of propriety, I don't care who sees me now.

They don't see what I see.

I breathe, the slight sound of my drip is impossible to hear, no matter how I try. The almost non existent echo in the empty room soothing to my disoriented brain whenever woke and needed to drift back to sleep.

It must have run out. Odd. Never have they forgotten, never have I awoken, at least not to this extent. Always I have been groggy, only able to sense my surroundings briefly before the bag, hanging by my head, filled with something light pink started filling my system with a fresh wave of sleep.

Not this time.

My skin prickles in fear at the unknown.

I watch the door.

…

I wake.

I don't know how long it has been. sense of time has been lost. Days could be hours, weeks. I have no clue. the idea at first was I woke every few hours when the bag ran out. But I realised I was wrong.

The bags were numbered, I didn't connect at first. I remember feeling hopeful, like I might crack some code. Escape. I was just desperate. Naive.

Bag numbers. bags into me.

I woke anywhere between every five bags to ten bags, numbers jumping. I remember seeing 22. I had no idea what it meant. Then 37, 59 72. At every ten bags the would wake me. They'd test My skin, my pain tolerance. reactions. I was never uncuffed from the table.

They took blood too, soo much of it. Not from the vein, rather cutting my arms, inside my thighs, my ankles. Too groggy and in too much pin to really care. I have no idea when I last recognised this room, when I last opened my eyes to really see.

I watch the door.

…

I wake again.

I am sore. My back is aching, my shoulder blades dig into the table. I can lift my head to look down at myself, I am bony. Too thin.

Water. I think I dreamed about it. My lips are dry to the point of discomfort.

I start to feel anxious. I can't move, my body want to twitch with need. I want to scream in frustration. My breaths start to quicken. my head spins.

….

I'm awake again.

So thirsty. For the first time since my first days here. I cry. My tears seems a waste, The liquid I can only dream of touching to my tongue falling down my face.

…..

My scalp and skin itches. My shoulder blades burn where they touch the metal table as though its hot. The heels of my feet, feel as though they are on fire, cuffed so tightly to the table. My bottom, aches, and by back is stiff and feels almost numb, that is my only relief.

When I woke my lips were stuck together, Pulling them apart made me taste blood. Can't stop tonguing the dry gaping cracks along my bottom lip.

I don't have the energy to cry.

…..

I'm awake.

.

.

.

.

My eyes just stare. I think about staring. At nothing. Its a need. To think of nothing, to empty my mind. If I don't, My mind wanders. always to Water. I dream of it still, the sound, the feel of its cool wetness on my skin.

…..

Pain. I feel myself hover in half awareness. I will myself to oblivion. I can't. Full consciousness slowly seeps in, I feel. Everything. Worse.

I have no hope now. I want to scream. I want to cry. I can do none.

I wait for death to take me.

It's welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

Two

Soft.

I can feel it, all around me. So soft.

I feel my body tingling, like a strange warmth starting from my toes and then up my legs over my stomach, my neck and over my face. It's nice.

Water.

I remember it. I remember wanting it. I check my mouth. It feels fine, not so dry as I remember.

huh.

I move my fingers. My whole arm moves. Its not strapped to the table.

No table. To soft to be that table.

My skin is cold. which is strange because I feel so warm. My fingers run along my stomach, smooth and cool. I lick my lips, a flashback of dry lips, cracked. I can almost taste blood in my mouth.

My mouth waters at the thought.

I cringe. That's disgusting. I clamp my teeth shut, I can hear the sound as though it were outside my body. Its disconcerting. I focus and then freeze.

I stop breathing.

I let my eyes crack open, they are sticky and I need to blink over and over before I can focus. The room is dark but I can see cracks of light around a huge window that makes up one whole side the room, It has big curtains pulled over it.

I can see everything.

Its so amazing, I can see the darkness, as though its a colour tainting the air, I can still see everything inside it. There is dust everywhere, I can see it flying in and out of my mouth as I breathe.

I can see the threads the rug that covers half the wood floor as though it was made of grass, a million fibres sticking in a thousand directions.

I look down at myself, My hand on my stomach over a thick blue blanket. my hand is white, but I can see tiny holes in my skin filled with hairs, I can barely feel them as I run my opposite hand over my wrist, its so strange, I feel as though I should be feeling each one as I watch my fingers pass over them.

A strange pulling sensation in my inner elbow when I move my arm makes me pause. A huge thick needle is inserted in the skin, held down with a piece of black tape. A clear empty tube is connected and disappears over my head, I follow it to where is hangs from over a beam, I'm occupying what I now see is a four poster bed.

The sound I make when I see the figure, sitting on the other side of the bed shocks me. My hand covers my mouth. It wasnt a scream. It was involuntary, like a scream, but instead I hissed, like a cat. I move, so fast I fall of the bed tugging harshly at the needle in my arm.

I gulp air, I can taste it. The thought pops into my mind before I remember my fear. It rises exponentially when I feel myself, I feel different, I think different.

I hear the bed move. I watch the figure, walk around the bed, so fast. He is so fast. I cringe, trying to tuck myself into ball by the edge of the bed.

A man. He rounds the bed and stops in front of me.

He was sitting on my bed watching me while I slept. I struggle to breathe, my chest is too small to inhale air. I clutch at my neck, the pain in my arm forgotten.

"Try to calm down sweetheart, you're safe now, I promise you, you're safe." His face is suddenly directly in mine, his hands gripping either side of my face. All I can think is they are cold, terribly cold, while I try and suck down air.

It isn't long before I calm though. Its a tad awkward. His face is right in mine, and his eyes are open, just staring at me, a strange smile that doesn't match his eyes.

I can't really move, his hands are soft but strong on my face. I just try and think about my breathing, already calming, in and out. My arm hurts.

I think I pushed that huge needle in further, the way my arm burns.

I try and look at it while not being able to move my face. Finally he notices, and his hands slide from my cheeks. He moves his hands out toward my arm, in silent question. Gingerly I lift it toward him.

He smiles.

"Sorry my love, I know how much you hate these." He proceeds to gently pick a the tape, It hurts coming off, pulling on the hairs of my arm.

Its quick coming out but it still hurts, once its gone though I relax slightly.

I watch the man, he walks toward a dresser across the room, dropping the needle into a bowl. The tube now hangs from the bag, till hanging from he stand by the bed.

The man comes to sit by me on the floor, I thousand dust particles fly up when he sits on the rug. I watch them twirl around us, trying not to inhale too many.

"What happened to me?" My voice is strange, I touch my throat, confused.

The man emits a strange sound, his face becomes angry and his eyes grow dark, stark in his pale face, He scares me.

"You don't remember?" He speaks strangely, in a deep accent.

I nod, recalling the last days alone. I remember myself, I look down, dressed in a pale silky nightgown, I try and peek under the top, to see if I am as bony as I remember seeing on that table.

Perhaps not as pronounced, but its hard to tell. The man notices, his hand comes up to run over my shoulder. I shrink back. He stops, his hand hovering just over the skin on my upper arm. He looks shocked.

I tense, I want to take it back, He scares me. I can feel my lips tremble, I clutch my hands together over my mouth, trying to hide it.

I watch as his face softens instead of staying angry. It confuses me. He moves a little closer, His eyes becoming a strange gray colour instead of the back they were before.

I quickly scan the room. There is a closed door near the dresser, it looks normal. Its wood with a round knob. I can't see a lock on it. I wonder if the window opens. The curtains are shut, only small cracks of light getting through. Its day time. Unless its artificial light.

"Can You-" I stop, he is staring at me, a strange look in his face. He seems to notice me staring at him and he smiles a strange smile, His eyes look slightly wild, My skin prickles.

"Can you show me the window?" The words are barely legible, I cringe as I say them, terrified he will say no, That the window isn't real. I need to know.

He stares at me. Then in barely a second he is gone and the curtains are pulled from the window, and not to the side, but off, they fall in a clump on the floor.

He stands there and stares at me, by the window. I watch him at first then turn my eyes to the glass. Its real, I lean toward the light, keeping my hands over my mouth as I stare, its muted, clouds in the sky cover sun. The familiar woods are just beyond the glass, bright greens and dull browns of the trees so close I could touch them if I could place my hand beyond the glass.

"Bella?" I flinch, He has moved, he is close again, crouching to the side me, letting me see the window.

He knows my name.

My breathing takes off, I cannot control it, The horrible tightening of my chest has me more panicked. I hear his voice, I can barely make it out, a rushing sound in my ears drowns everything.

Black.

….

The sentences are a little jumpy, switching from though to thought, feeling to feeling. I feel like if I woke, with only handful of memories my actions and thoughts would be only here and now, hopefully I got that energy half right and the chapter isn't just confusing.


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